


nyoom

by akapolarbear



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Dad 76 is too old for these shenanigans, Gen, Humor, Mostly written as a joke, Tracer is a big dork
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-11
Updated: 2016-07-11
Packaged: 2018-07-22 22:17:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 820
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7455961
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/akapolarbear/pseuds/akapolarbear
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Tracer is literally just a five year old.</p>
            </blockquote>





	nyoom

Jack ducked into a doorway and pressed up against its frame, sweat beading on his brow. This certainly wasn’t his first rodeo, as Jesse might have put it, but…he wasn’t as young of a man as he used to be. He took a few moments to breathe, mentally counting the seconds. Every second he spent was a second his team fought the Talon enemies without him. Was a second wasted.

He knew not to doubt them; they were all capable in their own right. They weren’t his children; he didn’t have to babysit them. Nonetheless, he couldn’t help but worry that he might lose someone. Someone he could’ve protected.

To calm himself, he went through their team composition. He wasn’t the only front-liner out there, so it wasn’t like their only offense was taking a breather. Hanzo was providing cover fire; the last he had seen of him, he had taken to the rooftops to get a better vantage point. Torbjörn was at the defensive line, probably huddled off in a corner, hammering away at his turret while it did the work for him. Zarya had said she would be making an offensive push, which may have concerned him if he wasn’t sure that Angela was right behind her keeping her safe. 

They would be fine. No one would be hurt. They—

A buzzing in his ear broke him out of his reaffirmation. “ _76, I think there may be a problem._ ” Zarya’s voice crackled through the comms system, and his stomach lurched. _Someone’s down, someone out there got hurt while you were sitting on his ass, damn it, Morrison, you were supposed to be their leader_–

“ _We’re getting some kind of radio interference; there’s feedback clogging the comms channel._ ” Zarya continued, and the sound of an explosion punctuated her statement, followed by what he assumed was Angela’s light scolding. Probably some mother-henning along the lines of, “be more careful,” as she was oft to do.

The hammering in Jack’s chest slowed, and the nausea subsided. “Interference?” The single word stuck in his head as his mind started to catch up. “ _What_? No, that’s impossible. These comms run on an airtight channel. Nothing gets in unless we want it in.”

“ _I know what I hear_.” Zarya was indignant; the offense taken in her voice was thick. “ _Listen for yourself, then tell me I am wrong_.” There was another explosion, then Angela’s faint but sharp, “ _Zarya, please!_”

 Jack let a growl slip in the back of his throat; Winston had specially modified these comms after the recall and said they were the finest airwave communication equipment available in this day and age. He trusted the doctor more than he did Zarya’s ears. Perhaps close range to so many explosions had finally taken its toll; what was it that Lúcio was always saying…? _That’s how you get tinnitus_?

But in good faith, he paused to listen anyway. At first, there was nothing, and he was about to inform Zarya that _like he had said_ these comms were airtight, when he heard it. It was faint, but definitely there. However…Jack had been in the service for a long time, and he had used comms much less technologically advanced than these. He had heard his fair share of radio interference over the years. This was no radio interference he had ever heard before. It was strange; it almost sounded like a young child playing with a toy jet plane–

_Oh._

His brows drew together, wrinkling the scar on her forehead, and sighed deeply through his nose. He spoke clearly, not loud enough to give away his position if there was an enemy nearby, but enough to get her attention. “ _Tracer._ ”

The “interference” cut out immediately, replaced with a little, _oop!_ , and then, “ _Tracer here! What’dya need, 76?_ ”

“Tracer, we’ve _discussed_ this.” His deadpan didn’t meet up to her trademark brand of chipperness, but then again, he wasn’t known for being chipper.

At first there was silence on her end, but then she exclaimed as realization dawned on her, “ _Oh!_ ” Then she giggled, and Jack really hoped she had gotten behind cover before this call and wasn’t laughing like a child in the middle of the battlefield. He would’ve liked to believe Lena was smarter than that, but he was sure she had done crazier – and _stupider_ – things before. “ _Sorry, luv. Was I doin’ it again?”_

Perhaps if he were a younger man, with more patience, who wasn’t currently in the middle of a life or death battle, he would’ve found her sheepishness endearing. But he wasn’t, and he didn’t. “Yes. _Loudly._ Please stop making airplane noises when you take corners; you’re distracting the team.”

If his tone had at all phased her, she didn’t let it show in her voice. “ _Right-O, my fault, won’t happen again, promise!”_

“And no saying _nyoom_ when you Blink!”

“ _Aw, Jack, you’re takin’ all th’ fun outta it!”_

**Author's Note:**

> So me and my best friend were discussing how big of a dork Tracer is, and I jokingly said that Tracer probably makes airplane noises in battle. She implored me to write the scenario, saying that we need to balance out all the Tracer porn with Tracer just being a big goober, because, let's face it, she's more into jokes than kinks.
> 
> So...enjoy.


End file.
